The Thanksgiving Caper
by Gotham Siren
Summary: Strong Enough Snippet: It's Orwell and Vince's first Thanksgiving together as a married couple. As always humor and romance ensue. Vince/Orwell


**Happy Holidays from my muses and I! No matter if you celebrate Thanksgiving or not, here's another silly holiday snippet! **

**As always, I do not own the Cape, I just love tormenting Vince.**

_**The Thanksgiving Caper**_

Vince never knew his wife could get so crazy during the holiday season. They had been married for a year, yet there were still things he had to find out for himself. This became apparent when their first Thanksgiving came around.

-0-

A very pregnant Orwell was determined to invite Vince's family over for Thanksgiving dinner. Even though she was big as a house and due to pop any day, she was going to have a wonderful dinner with her husband's family.

Of course, Vince fought against this from the moment he first learned of it. If she was as stir crazy over Thanksgiving as she was for any of the other special events, their son would be born in their own kitchen! He voiced his opinion again and again, but the brunette wasn't listening what so ever.

-0-

About a week before Thanksgiving, the blogger sat down at the computer desk with a pack of sticky notes by her keyboard. Orwell was busily searching various recipes, jotting down anything remotely interesting she found. As she clicked onto another link, the very pregnant brunette heard the door open and close promptly. She smiled as she heard her husband's footsteps come from behind her.

"Hi, honey," Orwell began lightly while she looked over the webpage before her.

Vince shook his head, a grin playing at his lips. "What are you doing?" he asked, sitting down in the arm chair that was against the wall.

"Looking up recipes for Thursday's dinner," the blogger said, taking a pen out of the cup by the computer monitor. "Did you need something, sweetheart?" she asked as she began to jot something down from the page.

The vigilante sighed. "I thought we made an agreement on this."

"I changed my mind," Orwell smirked, placing a hand on her belly.

Vince got up from his chair and kneeled down beside his wife. "Orwell, don't you think this is going to be asking too much of yourself? Matthew could be here any day now, I think you should be resting."

The pregnant blogger smiled gently and turned around to face her husband. She gently took a hold of his hand and placed his hand over her stomach. As she met with the vigilante's intense blue eyes, they both felt Matthew shift onto his opposite side. "Vince, we'll be fine. I understand that you're worried, but this is what I want to do."

Vince rose to his feet and lifted his wife into his arms, bringing her over to the arm chair. He gave her a gentle peck and settled down with her against his chest. "I'm just worried. You tend to get carried away during holiday gatherings… if you haven't noticed."

"I promise to take it easy," Orwell began with a light smile.

The Cape sighed and rested his forehead against his wife's. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'm positive," the blogger gave her husband a drawn out kiss, tracing her fingers across his chest.

As they broke apart, Vince grinned lightly. "Alright, baby, you win," he paused. "Just you gotta promise me something."

"And what's that?" Orwell asked, meeting her eyes with his.

He grasped her hand in his own and kissed her fingertips gently. "Let me help you somehow. If you have something that you need to get done, I'll be willing to help in any way that I can."

"Well, now that you mention it," the pregnant brunette hoisted herself up from her husband's lap and walked over to the desk again. She smiled and took the green sticky note pad from its spot by the keyboard. Orwell loved it when Vince got himself into things that he couldn't get himself out of. When she waddled over to the vigilante, he wrapped an arm around her waist and looked down at the sticky note pad in her hand.

"What'd you have there?" The Cape asked curiously.

The pregnant blogger smirked. "This is a list of things I need from the store. If you go pick these things up, I can work on cleaning."

"Are you sure you should be cleaning in your condition?"

Orwell arched an eyebrow. "Do _you _want to clean Vincent?"

Vince grinned and took the note pad from his wife's hands. "Is this all you need?"

The brunette nodded, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "I love you, honey."

The vigilante tightly wrapped Orwell into a hug. "I love you too," he whispered before he picked himself up.

"Thank you, Vince," she said with a tiny smile as she watched her husband leave the room. He smiled back at her once more before he was out of sight.

-0-

By the time that Thursday came around, the pregnant brunette had everything she needed for her family dinner. Or at least, she thought she did. Orwell stood at the island counter working on her dish of dressing, exhausted as ever. She had been cooking all day, her feet were swollen and achy; not to mention her husband was making her very cranky. Didn't he say he would do whatever she needed him to? Then why the heck was he sitting down in the living room watching Football? She couldn't really be but so mad, he was entertaining their guests, but still!

Orwell needed him to pick up another package of flour. Without the flour, there would be a lot of unfinished dishes. The blogger scoffed as she took the plastic wrap and spread a sheet across the finished dressing. "Vincent!" she yelled for what felt like the billionth time. When she didn't hear from him, (for what also felt like the billionth time), Orwell took the towel that was around her shoulder and threw it down on the counter. That man was _far _from dead. She sighed and stalked into the living room that was thriving with family.

Everyone that was watching the TV were shouting all at once. The shouts bounced off the walls and pounded into the pregnant mother's head. She marched up to her husband and stood right in front of him, obscuring his view.

Vince chuckled at his wife. "Hey, baby."

"Shut up and listen to me, Vince," Orwell spat.

His grin faltered as he took in her irritated expression. "I'm listening."

"I need you to go to the store and pick up some flour," the brunette began in a monotone.

Vince's forehead crinkled in a little confusion. "Didn't I pick some up Tuesday?"

Orwell narrowed her eyes at her husband, placing a hand on her hip. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm cooking _a lot _of food."

The vigilante knew that look. That look meant if he didn't do what she wanted within the next twenty seconds, he would be sleeping on the couch. Vince just stared up at his wife and grinned. "One package of flour coming up, baby."

Orwell's expression lightened. "Thanks, honey. You remember the brand you bought the other day, don't you?"

The vigilante nodded in agreement, or at least what he thought was agreement.

The expecting blogger gave her husband a feather light kiss on his lips, just moments before she walked out of the room.

Vince stared back in disbelief at his wife. Her hormones were like a rollercoaster most days. She could be angry at him all day, but one thing could change it all around. He didn't mind it, though; she was really adorable when she was angry at him.

-0-

The vigilante's trip to the local grocery store was quite intense. By the time he got inside, the place was packed with anxious patrons. Most of them had baskets full of groceries; which made him wonder why everyone waited so late to get their supplies.

He walked through the store, the steady sound of beeps ringing through Vince's ears. Looking down at the sticky note his wife had made for him Tuesday, he read the name of flour to himself. If the Cape didn't get this right, Orwell would kill him and bury his bones in the back yard. He passed by several shoppers as he glanced up at the aisle titles.

"Flour, flour, flour," Vince chanted to himself. The vigilante squinted as he saw the specific aisle he was looking for. _Good, so I won't be dead after all. _

Or so he thought.

-0-

Orwell sat on the couch, rather impatiently, for her husband to come back. The poor blogger had to deal with family shouting at her TV, and whoever wasn't doing that was gloating over the brunette's baby bump. She was seriously getting tired of everyone leaning over her to rub her stomach.

When Vince finally came back, the blogger thought she would jump for joy, she was so happy to see him.

"Finally, you're back!" she began with a little grin. She still sat on the couch, and was greeted by her husband with a quick peck.

"Sorry I couldn't get back sooner, baby. You wouldn't believe the lines they had," the vigilante spoke, plopping down next to his wife.

Orwell sat up and smiled. "It's okay, sweetie," her face fell as she looked down at the bag on the Cape's lap. "Did you get the brand I asked for?" she asked warily.

Vince chuckled lightly. "Of course I did," he placed a kiss on the side of the brunette's mouth.

The pregnant blogger narrowed her eyes at him. "Uh-huh," she snatched the package of flour out of its bag and studied it closely. Vince felt his heart drop as she frowned.

"Vince, sweetie. This isn't the brand I asked for."

"Funny thing about that," the Cape chuckled nervously. "Remember how I said there was a long line?"

Orwell stared at her husband, completely unimpressed. "And this was all they had?"

Vince sighed. "The lady in front of me took the last one."

The blogger settled back into the couch and crossed her arms. "But that was suddenly the last grocery store for _hours_!"

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't want you being mad at me for keeping you waiting," the vigilante added sheepishly.

Orwell rolled her eyes and rose to her swollen feet. "Fine, it's whatever, Vince."

"I can go back out if you wanted me to-"

The brunette blogger stopped her husband with a hand. "It's fine. I was hoping to not mix flour but I guess it doesn't matter now."

"Orwell," Vince started, reaching out for his wife's hand.

She just shook it off and stormed away. "Entertain the guests…"

The vigilante drug a hand across his face, sighing roughly. He seemed to screw up a lot, didn't he?

-0-

In the kitchen, Orwell tried to burn off her pregnancy-induced anger. All the chopping, mashing, slicing, and stirring seemed to keep her mind off of how badly she wanted to slap her husband in the head. Which, in the expecting mother's eyes was a _very _good thing.

The brunette felt her unborn son shift onto an opposite side, which only made her smile. "Are you ready for a big Thanksgiving meal, little one?" Not expecting an answer, she just continued with her cooking, humming a little tune as she maneuvered around the kitchen.

"Momma may get mad at your father at times, but don't get upset about it, alright? We love each other," Orwell paused to mutter under her breath, "No matter how many times he screws up."

Little did the expecting blogger know, her mother-in-law snuck into the room just as she started talking to unborn Matthew. The elder Mrs. Faraday sat down on the bar stool at the island counter, warily watching her daughter-in-law mixing the casserole up.

"Jamie, may I help with anything?"

Orwell turned her head, gasping back in a little fright. "Oh, it's just you mother Faraday," she looked back at her glass dish and smiled. "I believe I'll be okay with cooking. Just about done, actually."

The blogger's mother-in-law nodded. "Here, I'll help you bring dishes out to the dining room."

The pregnant brunette grinned. "I'd appreciate that, so much." As the thought of her husband crossed her mind, though, she frowned sadly. "Mother?" she called out gently.

"Yes?" the elder Faraday asked, giving Orwell her undivided attention.

The blogger hesitated before she answered. "Did Vince look upset when you last saw him?"

"Are you worried about the little fight you two had earlier?" Orwell's mother-in-law began in a pressing tone.

The brunette nodded. "I know I was too hard on him," she brought the finished plate of casserole over to the island, placing a piece of plastic wrap around it. "I just can't _help _it."

"Oh, believe me, I understand," Mother Faraday began, "I raised the boy."

Orwell chuckled, grabbing the casserole with a pot holder.

"Besides, marriage isn't supposed to be easy. You'll get mad at him every now and then, especially while you're expecting," the elder Faraday too grabbed a bowl from the counter, smirking at her daughter-in-law. "It'll get better."

-0-

Once the table was set, the whole family sat down to a spread of food. Orwell sent a smile to her husband as he sat down next to her.

"I'm really sorry, honey," she spoke gently.

Vince gave her a tiny grin, kissing her forehead. "It's okay."

The pregnant blogger passed him a watery smile. Thanksgiving had been so important to her; she wanted to get everything right. She wanted to prove herself to her husband's side of the family. Though, as she tried to prepare everything and get every detail perfect, she forgot the meaning of Thanksgiving. Orwell looked around at the table full of family; everyone having their own conversations. The pregnant brunette tapped her spoon against her glass of water, gaining all eyes on her.

"First of all, let me thank all of you for coming," the ends of Orwell's lips lifted into a smile. "Most of you have come from a long day of traveling, and we're all probably very hungry right now."

Vince leaned forward to rub his wife's very pregnant stomach. "Of course, it could be Matthew saying hello." As he said that, everyone let out a laugh of their own.

The brunette blogger smiled, placing a hand over her husband's. She met with each of her family members with the same smile. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone."

***The Cape***

"Baby, I think I ate too much," the vigilante let out a groan as he stretched out his pajama bottoms. He leaned against the bedpost, waiting for his wife to get out of the bathroom.

The pregnant blogger chuckled at her husband as she turned out their bathroom light. "You always over eat, Vince."

"Well I can't help you're such a wonderful cook," Vince began, placing an arm around the brunette as she joined him on their bed.

"Oh so it's my fault now. Did I make you get that fourth plate?" Orwell asked with a smirk, snuggling up to his chest.

The vigilante grinned back at his wife. "Yes, you have telepathy, I swear."

The expecting blogger just shook her head. "You're silly."

"Hey, you married me," Vince began, lightly placing a kiss on her lips.

Orwell placed their foreheads together. "I did marry you, and I'd never make the mistake of saying no."

"Never ever?" the vigilante asked, a cheerful gleam in his eyes.

The pregnant blogger shook her head. "Never."

Vince slipped a free hand down to her stomach, smiling as he rubbed his hand across it. "And now look at you."

Orwell laughed. "Yeah, as big as a house."

"But as beautiful as ever," the Cape met with the blogger's brown eyes with a bright grin.

"I'm going to let it go that you just agreed to me being as big as a house," the brunette gently kissed her husband.

"You know I love you," Vince began gently.

Orwell smirked back at the vigilante. "I never would have guessed."

As the two were about to indulge in another kiss, they were startled by Lacy who made herself known by jumping up on the bed, making a run for her human parents.

The blogger scratched her ears, smiling as she settled down against her own big belly. "I think she's trying to tell us something," Orwell said to her husband.

Vince leaned down as he placed a kiss on Lacy's head. He raised his head a bit to kiss his wife's baby bump, and then finally kissing the brunette on the lips. "Yeah, mom has had a long day."

"So has daddy," the pregnant blogger replied.

Vince grinned down at the brunette. She did have a point. "Night, baby," the vigilante paused to kiss his wife again. "I love you."

"Love you too, honey," Orwell smiled back at her husband before settling back against Vince.

The vigilante kissed the pregnant brunette gently on the forehead as he secured her in place. While his body was drifting off to sleep, he thought about how his wife behaved over a holiday like Thanksgiving. He kind of worried how she would be like at Christmas….

**Alright Capers, that's it for me today! Let me know what you thought of this fluffy little bunny. **


End file.
